I was at Meetup group the other night, when I spotted Brodie over in the corner by the snacks. Knowing him, he was probably stuffing his pockets with free food. Not to save a buck, that I could understand. No, Brodie would steal something just to steal something. I know this firsthand because Brodie has stolen a fair share of my stuff on two occasions. But there was never enough proof to press charges against him, so there was nothing I could do. See, he knows enough of the right people (fences, thieves, bookies, dealers, cops, etc) to get away with a lot of shit. But at the same time, I knew he had two strikes against him and was on parole.
Anyway, last year I had heard through the grapevine that he had gone straight and was trying to make an honest living. Of course, I knew better than that. Now I’m not saying people can’t change. People can and do every day, but we all know of people like Brodie, and we all know they can’t change. They were little motherfuckers with they were kids and they would be the same when their number was called.
Unfortunately, Brodie had two other strikes against him tonight that he didn’t even know about. Number one was that I had already downed about five Jack and Cokes. Number Two was that I’m really stressed out about my job and am ready to beat the shit out of the first motherfucker who deserves it. So, I slipped out the side door of the place and waited across the street for him to leave. I hadn’t seen if he came with a friend or friends, but it didn’t matter any. I was more than willing to drop anybody he may have with him.
He came out about twenty minutes later, alone and looking sober. I hadn’t seen his car anywhere, so I figured that he must have taken the bus down there, which is what I did. The bus stop was three blocks north of the direction he was walking, so I double-timed it, crossed the street, and waited at the edge of the alley for him.
All I could think about while I waited was the look in his eyes when I stepped out from the shadows and called out his name. Would he yell for help? Would he take it like a man? Would he run? No, I wouldn’t give him the time or the opportunity for that.
So, he walks up, and I said in my Jack-vengeance-laced voice “Time to pay-up Brodie” (Yeah, it sounds a little too dramatic now to me too). I stepped out and sure enough, he put his hands up, palms towards me and said, “Hey man, I’ve changed”. Of course, me being me, my conscience told me to stand down and let him have his say. However, the Jack wasn’t sure where this conversation was going to go, so to be safe, my fist hauled off and punched him in the mouth.
I told him to stay on the ground or he was going to get more of the same, so he did. At the same time, a couple of guys across the street looked like they were calling the cops, so I stepped to the street and luckily got a cab on the spot (it is the Northside, you know). Something I didn’t think about before I laid him out was that I was on the northern edge of Boys Town and those boys don’t put up with dudes coming into their neighborhood and gay bashing, which is what they might have thought. That said, I could have gotten a much worse ass-whoopin’ than Brodie got, no doubt. Next time I’ll wait outside his apartment.